


Careful the Wish

by jackabelle73



Category: Glee
Genre: Adoption, Foster Care, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-03 21:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4115152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackabelle73/pseuds/jackabelle73
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine find themselves taking very different approaches to an important life decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Careful the Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kurt-Blaine Reverse Bang 2014. Art by bowtiedarling. Warning for brief mentions of two canon deaths.

Kurt lagged behind as his husband strode purposefully to the marked door, which thankfully led into a community center. They'd read that these events were often held in places of worship, and although he knew it was illogical, he couldn't help thinking that the religious setting would make him even more uneasy than he already felt.  
  
"Come on, we don't want to be late," Blaine urged as he held the door open.  
  
Right. This course of action hadn't been his first choice, but he'd agreed to be here today. So he'd just have to man up and try to approach it with an open mind. He found a smile for Blaine, who smiled back in encouragement—oh, the things he'd do for that smile—and stepped inside.  
  
There was a sign-in table just inside the door, with Mercedes holding court. Kurt had felt an affinity with her from their first meeting, several months ago. Glad to see a friendly face, he said hello while Blaine signed both their names on a clipboard. They were given a folder of information, asked to turn off their cell phones, and take a seat in the first room on the left.  
  
Kurt walked away and found a seat on the second row next to the door. As he'd expected, the room was filled with mostly straight couples. But he thought he saw two women sitting together, and was that one woman sitting alone? He reached out to hold Blaine's hand, finding reassurance in the answering squeeze of fingers.  
  
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, we'll get started." Mercedes was at the front of the room, commanding attention. "I'm Mercedes Jones, your Big Apple Adoptions representative. Each child has their own social worker here today as well. They're with the kids are in a different room down the hall, starting a fun activity to help them relax. We'll be joining them in the meeting hall shortly. First, I need to go over a few things with you.  
  
"This is a match event for interested potential parents, and children between the ages of four and fourteen who are currently in the foster care system. All these kids have been granted a Termination of Parental Rights by the court system, meaning they're available for adoption."  
  
Kurt was only half-listening as he leafed through the folder he'd been given. Inside were profiles of the children who were here today.  
  
"Why do I feel like I'm browsing through a catalog?" he whispered to Blaine. "It's like there should be an order form at the back. I'm not comfortable with this."  
  
Blaine only patted his knee in an absentminded way, his focus on Mercedes.  
  
All the children were obviously dressed in their best, had been told to smile for the cameras and the captions on the pictures listed their many wonderful attributes. Always happy, loves to help out, terrific athlete, budding artist…..but the one descriptor that all the pictures had in common was 'wants a forever family'.  
  
He flipped back through the brochure again, trying to take the time to really look at each child, trying to imagine himself and Blaine parenting that child. He felt for these kids, he really did. Just seeing them listed like this, one after another, knowing that they were only the tiniest fraction of children in this city who needed permanent homes….he ached for them. And he wanted to be a father. He was the one who'd started the kids discussion with Blaine, almost a year ago now.  
  
But…he'd always imagined that when they became dads, he'd be able to look at their children and see themselves. He wanted to see Blaine's wild curls on a little girl, or his own eyes in the pale face of his little boy looking back at him. Maybe, if they were really lucky in the genetic lottery, one of their kids would inherit his mother's brown eyes, a detail he remembered about her only because of the many pictures his dad had kept and treasured. He'd always imagined that he'd have that biological connection to his kids.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by multiple footsteps and the chatter of children as they passed the closed door.  
  
"There go the kids now," Ms. Jones said. "Almost time for us to join them and start the ice breaker games. The first one will encourage the kids to come to you. They'll be given things to look for amongst the adults, like 'find an adult wearing a blue shirt' or 'find someone who likes ice cream'. This activity will hopefully encourage them to interact with all of you. They'll ask you to check off an item on their sheet, and that can be your opportunity to say hello, maybe ask a question. But keep in mind that you're here to meet all the children. Try to give all of them at least a little of your time."  
  
She scanned the iPad she held, as if checking her notes, then continued.  
  
"Now, a few rules. And I know all of you were told this when you signed up for today, but these points are important, so I'm going to say them again." She looked over her audience and very deliberately stepped before a man in the front row who was texting. "Excuse me, you were told to turn off cell phones." A sharp elbow from the man's wife got a muttered 'sorry' as he put the phone away.  
  
"As I was saying," Mercedes continued pointedly, "the one thing you must not do today, is make promises to any of these children. Don't ever tell one that you want to take them home, that you want to be their family, or any variation of those statements.  
  
"Once we get in there, we won't even call you potential parents. That might get the children's hopes up. It's also more pressure for all of you, and we want to avoid that today. This is a get-to-know-you session, but keep in mind that you shouldn't ask personal questions. If the kids volunteer information, that's one thing, but don't ask. Also, no touching. I know the kids are cute and you'll probably want to give them a hug, but not today."  
  
"So what do we do, if we meet a kid that we feel like we click with?" It was the dark haired half of the female couple Kurt had noticed.  
  
"In that case, you talk to me, or the child's social worker after the event," Ms. Jones said firmly. "There's a procedure we have to go through, ways we determine if you're the best home for each child, so that we don't get their hopes up prematurely. You must remember that these are children who have been through some sort of trauma. They're emotionally fragile, they've had their hearts broken before, and the worst thing you can do today is make promises you can't keep."  
  
"Each child's social worker has full information on them. If you request a meeting after today's event, the first thing they will do is share some of their history with you, talk to you about whether you're prepared to take on whatever baggage a particular child will bring with them. And make no mistake, every child in that room has baggage. If all goes well, we'll take the next step toward permanent adoption, which usually means the child or children visiting your home.  
  
"And even then, an adoption isn't final till a judge signs papers to that effect in court. That happens no sooner than six months after the child moves into your home full time, no exceptions. You have to ask yourselves if you can provide a loving and stable home for these children, knowing that an adoption can fall through at the last moment. It's not likely with kids that have a legal TPR in their files, but it's been known to happen."  
  
"I'm not sure I could handle that," Kurt whispered.  
  
"That's not much of a sales pitch," the same woman in the audience commented, echoing him. "You're making it sound like even being here today is signing up for heartbreak."  
  
"I'm trying to realistically prepare you. All of you here are pursuing adoption through the foster care system, which can work and can lead to happy ever after for everyone concerned. But it doesn't always. You should know what might happen."  
  
"If it's that risky, why do parents do it?" a man asked.  
  
"Because these children need homes, and families. They need stability and support. And you, as adults, are more equipped to handle hardship than they are." She paused. "If there are no other questions, we'll join the children in the meeting hall."  
  
The scraping of chairs on the tile floor and shuffling accompanied their move to the door, and a moment later Kurt found himself standing rather awkwardly along one wall with the other adults, looking across a large room to the children on the other side. His fingers twitched, brushing against Blaine's for a second, the barest of touches to keep himself grounded. A circle of hard plastic chairs filled the space in the middle of the room. The children—who ranged from preschoolers to teenagers as Mercedes had said—looked equally ill at ease. Adults stood in a second row behind them. The social workers, he assumed.  
  
Kurt's eyes roved over them, still feeling odd and a bit guilty that he was essentially assessing them to see which one he thought might be a good fit for him and Blaine, their life and lifestyle. It was just the way these things worked, he told himself. It also reminded him a bit of going to the animal shelter with his dad, and trying to pick out a dog, and that made him feel even guiltier. They weren't dogs, he told himself. They were kids who needed a home.  
  
There were about twenty kids, he guessed. Well over half were boys, confirming what they'd read on the Internet, that boys were less likely to be chosen for adoption, and took longer to place when they did find a home. A little over half of the children were black, with the other half mostly white though one looked Hispanic and a couple looked to be of mixed racial background. Two girls, who looked very like each other, held hands tightly. Probably a sibling group that needed to be placed together.  
  
Ms. Jones stood in the middle of the room between the two groups, and addressed both of them.  
  
"So, here's how the first ice breaker works. The kids have been given a list of things to look for or questions to ask among the adults. So they will come to you," she said to them. "All you have to do is stay in your seat and let them find you. So take your seats please."  
  
They moved with everyone else to the circle of chairs set up in the middle of the room, where the chairs were spaced far enough apart to allow for easy movement between them.  
  
"Alright kids…you have your assignments. On your mark, get set, go!"  
  
For a long moment, none of the kids moved. Then a blond haired man whispered something to the teenage boy on the end, and with a sigh he stepped out of the line and approached the couple nearest him.  
  
"Do you like puppies?" he mumbled, sounding resigned. He was probably told to set an example for the younger kids.  
  
The woman managed a strained smile, equally ill at ease with the eyes of the entire room on this first contrived interaction, but trying gamely to play along.  
  
"Of course. Who doesn't like puppies?" she answered. "My favorite breed is a Cocker Spaniel. Do you have a favorite?"  
  
"Not really," he replied without enthusiasm. "I had a dog when I was little, but she was a mix breed. Just a mutt."  
  
"I've heard that sometimes they can be the best dogs," the man offered. "They can take the best traits from all the different bloodlines."  
  
"Maybe," the boy answered, and checked an item off his list with a blue crayon. He looked at Ms. Jones, who nodded encouragement and made a 'go on' motion. The boy sighed and stepped down to the next couple, looking down at his list for what to ask them, shoulders hunched under the continued scrutiny of the group.  
  
Ms. Jones and along with the social workers were moving up and down the line of children, whispering to them and giving them little nudges forward. The older kids mostly moved forward without much prompting. The younger kids were taken by the hand and led to an adult to start.  
  
"This is….really awkward," Blaine whispered to him a few moments later, after they'd watched several more strained introductions. Kurt was starting to wonder if they could sneak out without being seen. Maybe if he faked a sudden illness….  
  
"Hi," said a voice in front of them, barely carrying over the babble that was starting to pick up volume in the room as everyone began interacting. The girl looked to be about twelve, wearing a baggy Justin Bieber T-shirt. The clipboard dangled from one hand as she used the other to twist the end of a braid that lay over her shoulder.  
  
"Hi," Blaine said, but his smile was forced. "I'm Blaine, and this is Kurt."  
  
They waited a moment, but she seemed to be waiting for them.  
  
"Do you have a question for us?" he prompted.  
  
"Umm…" she looked down at her sheet. "What's your favorite dessert?"  
  
Kurt grinned. "That's easy. Mine's cheesecake. And his is hot fudge sundae. What's yours?"  
  
"I like brownies. With pecans in them. But I'll eat any dessert. Every home is different," she shrugged, and Kurt wondered how many different homes she'd lived in. "Some don't believe in desserts."  
  
"I think we're supposed to have snacks and drinks later," Blaine said, optimistically. "Maybe there will be brownies."  
  
"You think so?" Her face brightened.  
  
"I'll keep my fingers crossed," Blaine promised, raising his crossed fingers.  
  
"Do you like the Biebs?" Kurt asked, gesturing to her T-shirt.  
  
"No way," she said, rolling her eyes. "He's lame. But the foster home didn't have many shirts in my size."  
  
"Oh. Too bad," not knowing what else to say, and there was an uneasy pause. Having to wear objectionable clothing was abhorrent to him, and he reminded himself that it was surely low on the priority list for these kids.  
  
"Well, thanks."  
  
"Maybe we can talk some more later," he offered. She only nodded before moving to the couple on his left.  
  
Kurt exchanged a look with the woman there, silently wishing her luck.  
  
"Hi! What's your name?" was the greeting chirped at him from the next kid who approached, a little boy of about five with bangs falling adorably in his eyes. Kurt melted a little when he saw the gap in his grin where he'd recently lost a tooth.  
  
"Hi yourself," he answered. "What's your name?" The name was clearly visible on the boy's nametag, but it was something to get the conversation started. He realized guiltily that he hadn't looked for the first child's name. He'd have to ask her later.  
  
"Bobby."  
  
"Do you have a question for us, Bobby?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah, but I can't read it. Can you read it for me?" He shoved the clipboard at him.  
  
"Hmm….well, one of your questions says, 'do you like clothes?' I'll tell you a secret," Kurt leaned in, and the boy stepped closer in anticipation. "I love clothes. My job is clothes."  
  
Blaine laughed. "That's not such a secret, Kurt."  
  
The little boy was squinting. "How can wearing clothes be a job?" he asked, and Kurt couldn't stop the laughter.  
  
"Not wearing clothes," he explained. "Designing and making clothes."  
  
"Oh," he said, but still looked confused. "Well, ok. Bye!" He bolted across the circle to accost someone else. No logical working his way down the line in order for him.  
  
No one approached them for a few minutes and Kurt took the opportunity to look around. There was more motion in the room now. Some of the adults had gotten up and were initiating contact with the kids, despite their directions to stay in their seats.  
  
His eye was drawn to the other side of the room, to where the first boy to step up was talking to another couple. The teen's body language still said he'd rather be anywhere else. Kurt had thought the kids might be overeager and desperately trying to show off their best side, especially the ones old enough to understand what was really going on. Looking around, it looked as if some children were taking that approach. But the older kids looked like they were just going through the motions, with no real enthusiasm for finding a family today. Had they given up? The possibility made him sad.  
  
Across the room, two couples fawned over Bobby, both the women leaning in to touch his arm or say something to draw his attention back if he turned to the other one. The situation there looked competitive.  
  
Mercedes approached and bent down to their level. "Things usually get more casual at this point. It's okay to get up and introduce yourself to the kids as long as they look receptive."  
  
Still scanning the room, he noticed a couple of the kids looking around as if wondering who to approach next, but all the adults were currently talking to a child. Bobby wasn't the only one who was drawing attention from multiple couples. A little girl, maybe six years old, in a flowery dress and her hair in pigtails had three couples surrounding her.  
  
Back on the far end of the room, one child still hung back where the kids had started, slumped over in a chair. She didn't look as if she'd approached a single adult. A blonde woman in a skirt knelt next to her talking, but Kurt couldn't hear what she was saying.  
  
"Blaine, let's split up. I'm going to talk to her," he pointed, "and I think you should go say hello to one of the other kids who's not talking to anyone." He didn't wait for a response before getting up from his chair and weaving through the crowd.  
  
"Excuse me?" The woman looked up. "I haven't had a chance to meet this young lady yet. Is it okay if I join you?"  
  
She stood and motioned with her head that he should step away with her, far enough that the girl wouldn't hear them.  
  
"Mr. Hummel," she read his nametag, "there's a reason why the first activity gives the children the choice to come to you. We don't want them to feel pressured by adults crowding them."  
  
"Sorry. I didn't mean to commit a faux pas, Ms…." He glanced down at her nametag as well. "….Fabray. She just looked like she needed some encouragement."  
  
She glanced back at the girl, who still sat in the chair with her head down. "She's having a rough day today," she whispered, turning back to Kurt. "Her mother passed away two weeks ago, and she's been having okay days and bad days trying to cope. Today's a bad day. Ms. Jones and I discussed it with her foster mom and we hoped that being here might be a distraction for her, but perhaps that was an error on our part."  
  
"Poor kid," he sympathized. "My mom died when I was eight, after a long stay in the hospital. So I can relate. Can I try talking to her?"  
  
She sighed. "Alright. But maybe don't include the detail about your mom not making it? You have my personal sympathies for that, but I'm not sure that's something she needs to hear today. And don't push her to talk if she doesn't want. Sometimes the best thing you can do is just be there, with no pressure or expectations."  
  
He nodded and Ms. Fabray knelt beside the girl again as Kurt pulled up a blue plastic chair.  
  
"Meg, this is Mr. Hummel. He'd like to sit with you a while, if you don't mind." She looked up at him. "This is Megan Joy, but she likes to be called Meg. Right?" The girl only raised her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, not looking up. "I'll leave you two for a moment." She gave him a last warning look as she stood, smoothing down her skirt.  
  
"Hi," he said softly.  
  
She didn't lift her head, but a barely audible 'hi' was murmured. He sat quietly for a bit, using the time to watch the goings-on in the rest of the meeting hall, his eyes automatically seeking out Blaine. He was off to one side of the general crowd milling around, talking to that first teenager who'd been unwillingly nudged forward to start things off. Why did his attention keep coming back to this boy? Was it just because he'd felt so bad for him to stand before the crowd and ask an inane question about puppies? Was it because he was, by the looks of it, the oldest in the room? He knew from the reading he'd done with Blaine that the older kids got, the less chance they had of being permanently adopted.  
  
Case in point, he thought, looking at the two little kids who still had several adults each clustered around them. Neither of them looked to be over six years old, at most. They were white, healthy, and undeniably cute. Meanwhile, a few kids in their early teens hung back, as if waiting for someone to notice them. He was glad Blaine was talking to one of them at least, as he saw his husband shake hands with the teenager and look his way. The familiar triangle eyebrows raised in a question mark and he took a step in his direction, but Kurt shook his head minutely and Blaine changed course, going over to two preteen boys who stood together talking, trying to pretend they were happy to be ignored by the adults in the room.  
  
The girl next to him—Meg, he reminded himself—lifted a hand to wipe at her cheeks, the first motion he'd seen from her.  
  
"I like your shoes," he offered, hoping to start a conversation with a non-emotional topic. "They match your shirt perfectly."  
  
A long moment passed before she answered, and even then he leaned forward a little to hear her over the hubbub in the room. "They were supposed to match my dress," she sniffed. "I couldn't wear it today."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I spilled chocolate milk on it," she said sniffled, looking directly at him for the first time. Her eyes were swollen and shiny with tears, but it was the soulful brown of them that made him stare for a moment before answering.  
  
"That's too bad," he offered. "I bet your dress was pretty."  
  
She wiped at her cheeks, and Kurt offered her the handkerchief from his pocket. She looked at it but made no move to take it. "It's a handkerchief. To wipe your face with, if you want." She took it and patted at her cheeks, then wiped her dripping nose. Kurt cringed inwardly. That silk handkerchief would never be the same again, but from what he'd heard about parenting, maybe he should start getting used to such sacrifices. Meg squished the white square in her hand and looked around as if noticing what was happening for the first time.  
  
After a moment of quiet observation, she asked, "Is your wife here? Which one is she?"  
  
Maybe kids this age were too young to have gaydar. Refreshing to meet someone who didn't slap that label on him at first sight, but he was about to disillusion her.  
  
"I don't have a wife," he said. "I have a husband."  
  
"A husband?" she looked up at him, her brows crinkled. "That's funny."  
  
"Yep. He's over there. See the man in the black suit, who looks like he's going to a business meeting and he should have a briefcase?" he leaned forward, getting on her eye level to point Blaine out.  
  
"That's him?"  
  
"Mmm-hmm. That's Blaine. I told him not to wear a suit, that it was too fancy for today." He himself was wearing black jeans, not quite as tight as usual, and a red button-up shirt with a brightly patterned neckerchief as his lone accessory.  
  
"Why too fancy?" she asked. She seemed to be relaxing, just a little. She still sniffled but at least she was interacting with him. He saw Ms. Fabray looking at them, and she nodded approval before turning back to the parents she was talking to.  
  
"Well, rumor has it there's a playground outside, and we're going to go out there later to play. And you don't know him yet, but my husband is the biggest grown-up kid you've ever seen. He's going to want to play, and it's hard to do that in a business suit." She looked across the room at Blaine, as if trying to imagine him playing on the playground. Just you wait and see he thought, but out loud he said, "You know, it's also harder to play in a dress. I bet you can have more fun on the playground in those black jeans you're wearing."  
  
She looked down at them and shrugged, and they sat quietly for a moment.  
  
"My mommy died," she said eventually.  
  
"I know. Ms. Fabray told me. I'm sorry." He wanted to reach out and pull her onto his lap, or at least rub her bent back. He had a sudden memory of his mother, who would come into the bathroom when he was sick in the middle of the night, rubbing his back as he retched into the toilet. His fingers twitched with the urge to offer comfort to this girl, but he remembered what Mercedes said about no touching. And he remembered too, that in the long months of crying for his mom, the only person he really wanted comfort from was his dad. He wondered about Meg's dad.  
  
He saw Blaine approaching slowly, giving Kurt a chance to wave him off, but he nodded. Having him come over at this point might be a nice distraction.  
  
"Meg," he said softly. "My husband is coming over. Do you want to meet him?"  
  
She looked uncertain, but nodded. After all, she'd just barely started to open up to him, now he was asking her to interact with another strange adult.  
  
Blaine squatted down in front of her. "Hi," he said softly.  
  
"Hi." She flitted a glance at him and down into her lap again, at the handkerchief still clutched there.  
  
"Blaine, I'd like you to meet Megan Joy. She prefers to be called Meg. Meg, this is my husband Blaine. The big kid I was telling you about," with a wink at him.  
  
"Who you calling a big kid?" he asked in mock indignation, but smiled at her. "It's very nice to meet you, Meg."  
  
"He said you like to play on the playground," she whispered to her lap.  
  
Blaine glanced at him, and Kurt nodded. Just go with it, he tried to communicate without speaking, and thankfully his husband turned back to Meg with his game face on.  
  
"I love playgrounds! And I looked at the one here on the way in, and it looks pretty darn cool. I can do lots of climbing on those monkey bars." She looked up at him through her eyelashes, as if trying to picture him on the bars. "But you know what?" he continued. "I saw one thing on the playground that I need a partner for."  
  
"What?" she asked, a little louder than she'd spoken before.  
  
He leaned in closer. "The see-saw," he told her, eyes widening dramatically. "Have you ever seen one person do the see-saw by themselves?"  
  
She thought a moment, then shook her head.  
  
"I bet you haven't! That's because one person on a see-saw is no fun. All you do is sit there, and that's booor-iiing," he drew the word out. "But if you have two people, it's awesome. So…will you be my see-saw partner? You'd be helping me out, Meg."  
  
The corners of her mouth turned up just a little, the first smile Kurt had seen from her, and nodded. "Okay."  
  
"Thanks!" He stood up and stretched his legs out as Mercedes approached.  
  
"Miss Meg, how are you doing?" she asked. "Are you making friends?"  
  
She glanced back and forth between the three of them. "They're nice," she said.  
  
"There are other nice people here too. Do you maybe want to try meeting some of them?"  
  
She looked back at Kurt and Blaine again. "It's okay," Blaine told her. "Go meet some others, but remember, you and I have a date with a see-saw later."  
  
"Okay," she smiled, and stood up from her chair, taking Ms. Jones' offered hand.  
  
"What's this?" she asked, turning Meg's other hand up to look.  
  
"Oh. He gave it to me." She turned back and held the crumpled bit of fabric out to Kurt.  
  
"Why don't you keep it, Meg? In case you need it again." He hoped she was done crying for today at least, but the handkerchief was a lost cause anyway so no harm in giving it to her.  
  
"What do you say when someone gives you something?" Mercedes prompted.  
  
"Thank you." He knew what she'd said from looking at her mouth, though her voice didn't carry over the other conversations in the room.  
  
"You're very welcome."  
  
"Maybe we can go in the bathroom first, Miss Megan Joy, and wash your face, hmm?" Kurt heard Mercedes say as they walked away.  
  
"You spent a lot of time talking to her," Blaine commented once she was out of earshot. "And you gave her one of your monogrammed handkerchiefs. You must like her."  
  
"She just lost her mom," Kurt told him sadly, looking after the girl. "I figured maybe we could relate to each other."  
  
"Oh. No dad?"  
  
"Since she's in foster care, I'm guessing not."  
  
"Poor kid. Were you…." Blaine hesitated. "Were you thinking maybe you'd want to adopt her?"  
  
"I'm not sure. It's…." He looked around the room, remembering the catalog-like file he'd left on his chair. "I knew this would be hard, but it's even harder than I thought it would be, Blaine. I really empathize with Meg, I'd like to help her, but I bet if I talked to every other kid in this room I'd feel the same way about them. They all need so much. It's a little overwhelming." He accepted Blaine's hug before standing back. "We only have a bedroom for one child right now, unless maybe it was a sibling set of the same gender who could share a room."  
  
"Yeah. It is hard. I talked to a few of the older kids while you were over here, and….I don't know. They all seem older than the age they look. I want to take them all home, Kurt. No kid deserves to live in this kind of uncertainty.  
  
"Well, we can't take them all home. Meet anyone in particular that you think we'd be good dads to?"  
  
"Actually, yeah. You know how we said if there was an LGBT kid who needed a family, we'd be great candidates for that situation?"  
  
"Yeah. Did you meet one?"  
  
"I think so." Blaine pointed subtly across the room at the first boy who'd stepped up for the icebreaker. "His name is James. He didn't actually tell me he was gay, but when I mentioned that I was here with my husband, he showed more interest than in anything else I'd said. I know when I was that age, I was struggling and would have really benefited from knowing an older, married gay couple. He's been in the system for over two years."  
  
"Poor kid," Kurt murmured, echoing Blaine's sentiment from earlier.  
  
"You want to go over and meet him?"  
  
Blaine led him first not to the boy they were supposed to meet, but to the blond haired man he'd noticed earlier. He introduced him as James' caseworker.  
  
"Sam Evans. Social worker extraordinaire," he smiled as he shook hands. "So go over and say hi to James, don't ask anything too personal unless he volunteers. And he might. He's been in the system a while and he knows what this is all about."  
  
A moment later Kurt found himself shaking hands with the boy, who was tall and thin but the way his shirt stretched over his shoulders suggested he was starting to fill out and lose his lankiness.  
  
"Hi, James. I'm Kurt."  
  
"Damn, you're one of them obvious gays, aren't you?" he asked, his brown eyes accessing Kurt frankly.  
  
He was a bit taken aback but tried not to let it show. "I suppose I am, yes," he answered evenly. "My coming out at sixteen was more of a formality than anything. But what makes you say so now?"  
  
"Your voice, dude. You sound like Pinocchio. And you dress like…" he swept his hand in an up-down motion. "Like I don't know what."  
  
Kurt glanced at Blaine. If this kid really wanted to be adopted, he wasn't working very hard to make the best first impression. But okay, he was a teenager in a bad situation, Kurt could play along.  
  
"Well, I consider this ensemble to be rather conservative, but my dad once told me that I dressed like I owned a magic chocolate factory," he supplied. The boy's face showed no comprehension. "Willy Wonka?"  
  
"Don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"You should watch the movie sometime," Blaine said. "But watch the original one, not the remake. But why don't we talk about other things. You and Kurt should get to know each other."  
  
"Right. So why you guys here looking to take in some other people's reject kids?" he asked.  
  
"Hey, don't call yourself that," Blaine admonished him.  
  
James shrugged. "My parents kicked me out when my dad saw me kissing another boy. Sounds like rejection to me."  
  
Kurt looked at Blaine, and could see the same uncertainty he felt. How do you respond to a kid saying something like that? A kid who knew how unforgiving the world could be?  
  
"Why don't we sit," Kurt suggested, moving to the nearest cluster of chairs. The neat circle they'd started in had been fractured, the chairs scattered all over the room as adults and children talked in small groups. "Tell me…." he trailed off, trying to think of a topic that wasn't too invasive or painful. "Tell me about that dog you said you had when you were a kid."  
  
"Her name was Daisy. She was nothing special, just a mutt like I said. But she was mine. I'd play with her every day after school. But we moved when I was eight, and we couldn't take her with us. I gave her to my best friend. He'd always liked her, and Daisy knew him. I saw her a couple times after we moved. I know she got a good home."  
  
"I'm sorry you lost her, but glad that you found her a good family," he replied lamely, not sure what else to say. "What's, umm…tell me your favorite subject in school."  
  
For the first time, there was a glimmer of enthusiasm, just a relaxing of the mouth and a change in his eyes. "Science. It's cool, man. You learn how things work, why things are the way they are. Cells and atoms, gravity and inertia….all those things act the way you expect them to. Laws of the universe, can't change them." He reached into his pocket, pulled out a quarter. "If I hold this out and let it go," he released the coin, letting it bounce off the floor, "it'll fall. Every time. Unless I go someplace where there isn't gravity, but on planet Earth I know that quarter's gonna fall."  
  
Blaine caught the rolling quarter with his foot, bending down to retrieve it and hand it back. "Do you like math, too?"  
  
"Math's okay. I mean, math and science are kind of co-workers in the same office, you know? I can use math to get the project done, but science is where all the interesting stuff happens." He pocketed his quarter.  
  
"I read the other day about a big science fair that was being held downtown," Kurt said. "I think it was for kids about your age….were you in that, by chance?"  
  
"Yeah, I was. Won third place in my age group." He smiled for the first time, and they both offered congratulations. Kurt felt something inside him relax the slightest bit, now that they'd found at least one topic of conversation that seemed to be happy for this kid.  
  
"That must've been a very proud moment for you," Blaine said.  
  
"Yeah, it was. But to be honest, I was happy just to be there at all. If I was still in the same foster home as a couple weeks ago, with the same social worker, I don't think I'd have gone. But I'm in a group home now, and Mr. Evans is my case worker, and he came over on a Saturday to take me to the fair."  
  
"I'm really glad you got to go," Blaine said. "Sounds like fun."  
  
"It was. While I was waiting for the judging, I got to wander around and see the other kids' projects too, talked to a few of them about their stuff." He stopped, staring off over their heads for a moment. They waited, sensing he had more to say. He still wasn't looking at them when he started to speak. "One of them….he goes to this high school on the Upper West Side. They're all about science and math there." He flicked a gaze back to them, then shrugged. "Sounded pretty cool."  
  
"And what grade are you in, James?"  
  
"Just started eighth."  
  
"And you want to go to this science high school next year?"  
  
"It sounded cool," he said again, but his expression said so much more. Hopeful and hopeless all at the same time. "But it's not like I can pay for a fancy school like that, and I doubt they take foster kids anyway."  
  
"Hey-" Blaine started to reach a hand out, but remembered himself and dropped it, which Kurt knew was hard for him. His husband was an extremely tactile person, dispensing comforting pats and hugs without even thinking about it. "It's not your fault, and it's not how you should define yourself."  
  
"Yeah, whatever." He stared off over their heads.  
  
Silence fell between them, Kurt exchanging worried glances with Blaine and this hurting boy across from them, not making eye contact and seemingly shutting down.  
  
"James?" he said softly, making a decision. Merest flick of a glance back at him. "You asked why we were pursuing adoption through the foster care system."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He glanced at Blaine, not sure how to broach this topic. His husband took his hand, but turned to face the teen hunched in his chair.  
  
"We discussed other options," Blaine told him, still holding Kurt's hand and rubbing his thumb soothingly across the back of his. Kurt saw James' eyes flick down to it, and wondered if he'd had any positive gay role models. Heaven knew he hadn't had any as a teenager. "We considered surrogacy first, but it's not legal for gay couples to hire a surrogate in New York, and we didn't want our baby to be born in another state where we'd have to take an emergency flight for the birth."  
  
"You could still adopt a baby," James pointed out.  
  
"Yes, we could." Blaine continued. "But once we'd accepted that we didn't have to have a biological connection to our children, we started considering older children, and that led us to considering foster care. And we realized that felt right, because of our own history."  
  
A quirk of the brow asked the obvious question.  
  
"I spent two months in emergency foster care when I was sixteen," Kurt answered. "My dad had a heart attack, was in a coma for several days. When he woke up, he was still in the hospital for a couple weeks, then had physical therapy at a residential facility for a month after that. I'd already lost my mom when I was eight, so it was just me and my dad. No other family close by. I stayed at home by myself for the first week, till the guidance counselor at school realized and reported the situation to Social Services. It was…." He shook his head, not sure how to express it. "Not a happy time in my life."  
  
"But your dad went home," James concluded. "And you went back home to him." There was a note of accusation in his voice.  
  
"Yes. I was one of the lucky ones. I know that. But even two months in the system was enough to give me sympathy for any child who finds themselves in a similar position."  
  
He absorbed that, his dark eyes flicking to Blaine next. "And you?"  
  
"I was never in foster care, but in some ways my story is….somewhat similar to yours," he answered slowly. "I mean, I came out to my parents by my own choice when I was thirteen. And they…they said were supportive, at first. But as time when by, it became obvious they weren't really okay with it. My dad was always suggesting these macho bonding activities for us to do. My mom would invite her friends over and look, they just happened to have this very attractive teenage daughter who came along."  
  
"That sucks," James commented.  
  
"Yeah. After about a year or so of that, and a…well, a problem with bullying at school, I asked if I could go to a boarding school for my last three years of high school. It was far enough away that I only went home for a week at Christmas, maybe a couple weeks in the summer."  
  
James sat back in his seat, regarding Blaine as if trying to decide whether to say what was obviously on the tip of his tongue.  
  
"I know," Blaine said, in response to the teen's look. "It's the oldest story in the world, poor little rich kid who thinks they have it so bad. Going to a pricey boarding school probably doesn't sound so bad compared to being in foster care, knowing you can't go home. But I was rejected by my parents for being myself, James. I was bullied for being myself. So I think I have an idea how you feel. It's taken me years to realize that their rejection didn't have to define me. Even if we never see you again after today, I hope you'll remember that much about meeting us."  
  
"What about now?" James asked.  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You cool with your parents now?"  
  
"I'm, well…." Blaine looked at Kurt, then squared his shoulders and faced James again. "I don't talk to them much. They paid my way through college, because that's what you're 'supposed' to do for your kids. They never let me want for anything material. But they also never accepted my relationship with Kurt. When we got married, my parents pretty much stopped talking to me. I get cards from them at Christmas and on my birthday, that's about it."  
  
"That sucks." His eyes shifted to Kurt. "And your parents? Or, your father I guess?"  
  
"I was one of the lucky ones," he admitted. "Couldn't have asked for a more supportive dad. And he remarried when I was seventeen, and my stepmom, Carole…she's great. Took a while for her to feel like my mom, but now she really does."  
  
"You tell them that you guys want to adopt?"  
  
"Of course. I talk to my Dad about pretty much everything, always have. He wants grandkids, and so does Carole. She says she can't wait."  
  
James rolled his eyes. "I bet she wants a little girl with long hair that she can put in pigtails. Just like that one you were talking to over there." He jerked his head to the other side of the room. "Nobody wants the black, gay teenage boy." He got up, but Kurt caught his hand, surprising even himself with his reaction and letting go quickly.  
  
"My parents will be happy to be grandparents to any kid we adopt, James. I don't know if that will be you. We just met five minutes ago, and I won't give you promises that I'm not sure I can keep. But I'm sure there's a family out there for you. And I don't want to leave here today thinking that you've given up on that. So don't, okay?"  
  
James stared at him for a long moment before snorting. "Yeah, man, whatever. You keep telling yourself fairy tales." He stalked away, disappearing back down the same hall they'd entered through.

They were still sitting there a moment later, looking at each other in dismay when a voice asked, "And what was that all about?"  
  
They turned to face Mercedes Jones, whose expression sent Kurt back to being a teenager himself, about to be chastised by a teacher.  
  
"I'm really not sure," Blaine answered for them. "I thought the conversation was going okay, then he said something about how we'd prefer a little girl and stomped off."  
  
She sighed.  
  
"This isn't his first match event," she told them. "Or his second, or even his third. Let me get his caseworker." She crossed the room to Sam Evans, who walked for the hallway after she spoke to him. Mercedes walked to the middle of the room, clapping her hands. "Alright, everyone! We're moving outside to the playground! Might be a good way for 'some people'"- she pointedly eyed two of the smaller children—"to run off some nervous energy." Several of the adults chuckled. "But adults, don't think you can just sit on the sidelines. You're expected to get out there and play too!"  
  
The smaller kids ran for the doors first, bolting through as soon as they opened. The older kids and adults followed at a more sedate pace.  
  
"You go ahead," Kurt told Blaine. "I'm going to take a bathroom break and I'll be out in a minute."  
  
In the restroom he leaned against the wall, enjoying the relative quiet. He could hear the voices of the large group on the playground outside, but they faded into a sort of background noise in here.  
  
Why were they even here? This wasn't what he'd pictured when he'd approached Blaine, over a year ago now, about his readiness to start a family. He'd been surprised when his husband balked. They'd talked about kids before, they both wanted a family. After several discussions and some tears, Blaine had finally confessed his insecurities about being a father. After all, his own parents had barely raised him, preferring instead to hire nannies around the clock so they could continue their careers and lifestyles without bothering themselves about the day-to-day details of raising their children. So it wasn't as if he had great role models whose example he could follow.  
  
Kurt had let it go for the moment, but brought it back up occasionally. He couldn't abandon the idea entirely. He found as he approached thirty that he felt ready. It felt like all the pieces were in place. They were financially stable and their marriage was solid. They'd indulged themselves in their share of parties and spur-of-the-moment weekend trips and sex on the kitchen table. They'd done all that, and now it was time for the next phase of their lives together. It was the ten year anniversary of Finn's sudden, senseless death that had prompted him. There was nothing like the death of your nineteen year old brother to remind you that life was too short, that if you wanted something out of life you needed to grab it, that there was no such thing as perfect timing. He tried to communicate all that to his husband, but something still held Blaine back.  
  
Unknown to him at the time, Blaine had been considering the issue. He'd been quietly researching the options available to them for fatherhood, all the while turning the idea over in his head and slowly processing Kurt's reassurances that just because his own parents had been distant and unsupportive, didn't mean that he would be.  
  
When, for the first time, Blaine was the one to open the kids conversation after not talking about it for a few weeks, Kurt could tell that something had changed for his husband. Blaine had been reading about adopting kids from the foster care system, and something about those kids called to him. Here were kids that had been taken from or rejected by from their families in some way. They'd been neglected or ignored. These kids needed someone, and Blaine was a person who needed to be needed. All his own fears about being a father had disappeared next to needs of these kids.  
  
So Kurt had agreed to consider foster care adoption, still not completely on board with the idea. And now he was here, meeting children who were real and not just pictures on a website. And he wasn't sure he could handle this. But he'd seen Blaine with the kids today, he knew his husband wanted this.  
  
He needed to get back out there or else he'd come looking for him. He pushed off the wall and went to the sink to splash water on his face.  
  
He found him by the door, talking to Quinn who held Meg's hand. "She seems to be under the impression that she has an appointment with you."  
  
Blaine grinned.  
  
"That's right, this young lady and I have a date with the see-saw." He took off his jacket with a flourish and handed it to Kurt, who took it, somewhat bemused as his husband bowed to the little girl. "Shall we, milady?"  
  
She giggled. "You talk funny."  
  
"Oh, you haven't heard funny voices yet. Who's your favorite cartoon character?" He led the way across the playground, dodging kids of varying ages and a beach ball that went sailing past them.  
  
"So where'd you adopt him?" Quinn asked after they were out of earshot.  
  
Kurt chuckled. "I told Meg that he's the biggest kid she'll ever meet." He looked around, but no one else seemed to be close enough to listen. "Ms. Fabray, can you tell me a little more about Meg's story?"  
  
"Call me Quinn. I'm happy to fill you in, but it's better to make an appointment so we can speak at the office. That way we can take our time. I'm sure you'll also be making appointments with other caseworkers, discussing other children. It's not a decision to be made lightly."  
  
Kurt sighed. "I don't know how we're going to decide on just one kid that we might want to foster….and adopt."  
  
He watched his husband wrap Meg's hands tightly around the handle of her seat, making sure she was holding on before he slowly lowered the other seat and got on. The grin on her face as she rose in the air was the happiest Kurt had seen her look yet.  
  
"You only have room for one?"  
  
"For now, yes. Our apartment isn't large. We almost didn't get two bedrooms when we moved in a couple years ago, but decided we wanted a guest room for my parents."  
  
"So where will they stay now, when they come to visit?"  
  
"They're so thrilled about the idea of being grandparents, they're more than happy to pay for a hotel when they come here."  
  
"Have you considered a sibling set?" She pointed to his right, at the same two girls he'd guessed to be sisters earlier. "They could share a room."  
  
"Maybe," he said noncommittally. He hadn't met those girls yet, and wasn't sure he wanted to. Though he knew he was supposed to meet with all the children, give them all a chance, he wasn't sure how much more emotion he could withstand today. He turned away from the sisters to watch Meg and Blaine again.  
  
"You seemed to hit it off with her," Quinn commented. "I'll confess that I wasn't sure about letting you talk to her, but you seemed to do fine."  
  
"I feel for her. I know what she's going through. But, when I lost my mom, I still had my dad. He was my rock." He turned just enough to make eye contact with Quinn. "Do you know what happened to Meg's dad?" Back to watching the see-saw as Blaine kept Meg in the air, bouncing. Her laughter rang out across the playground.  
  
"She never knew him," Quinn answered.  
  
He nodded. He obviously wasn't going to get any more information from her right now. The door opened behind them and James came out with Mr. Evans. The boy seemed to slump in on himself when he saw Kurt, but took a step toward him.  
  
"Sorry about what I said," he mumbled.  
  
"It's okay," Kurt replied, feeling like there was so much more he should say, but what?  
  
"Maybe you can go introduce yourself to some parents you haven't talked to yet," Sam suggested. He got a restrained eye roll from the boy.  
  
"Come with me, James. I met a couple earlier that I think you might like." Quinn inclined her head in invitation and stepped away, with James reluctantly following.  
  
"We really didn't mean to upset him earlier," Kurt said, watching him go. "I'm still not sure what we said that caused his mood to change so quickly. I thought the conversation was going well."  
  
"I know it probably looked like I wasn't paying attention, but I was. I saw the look on his face when he was talking to both of you, and I thought you were really hitting it off with him. I'm not sure either, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming with an explanation." Sam shrugged. "Might not've been anything you said, you know?"  
  
"He was talking about a science and math school that he heard about, then he said that he couldn't go there anyway and that's when the tide seemed to turn."  
  
"Which school?" Sam asked. "He didn't say anything to me about it."  
  
"He didn't mention the name, just that it's on the Upper West Side."  
  
"Sounds like something I should talk to him about. Excuse me." He started to walk way, then turned back. "Don't think you can hide over here for the rest of the day. I believe you have more children to talk to, right?"  
  
"Right." He didn't really feel up to facing more kids with that half hopeful, half wary look on their faces, but that's what he came for, right? It would be better if he didn't have to do it alone though. He headed toward the see-saw, where Blaine stood next to it talking to a woman while Meg sat on her seat waiting. Blaine seemed to be giving up his spot to the woman, who waved to Meg at the other end and mounted her seat.  
  
"Have fun with Miss Kate!" Kurt heard him call to her before meeting him halfway across the playground.  
  
"How's little Meg?" he asked.  
  
"Happier than she was earlier," Blaine responded, looking happy himself. "Did you meet any more kids?"  
  
"Was talking to Quinn and Sam, actually. Apparently we need to make an appointments tomorrow to discuss the case files of any kids we're interested in. And for now, we've been given orders to meet the rest of the kids here." He heaved a big sigh.  
  
"Not enthused?" Blaine asked.  
  
"It's just….I already feel wrung out from all the secondhand emotion after talking to just two kids, Blaine. I mean, the two we talked to for more than to just say hello. I'm not sure if I can handle more."  
  
"I know. But it wouldn't be fair to the other kids to not meet them all." Blaine held his hand for a moment, and with him by his side Kurt began to feel steadier.  
  
"Okay. Let's go meet a few others. I was thinking maybe that sibling set? The two little girls who were holding hands? We have enough room for two girls that age."  
  
For the rest of the afternoon they circulated the playground, trying to meet as many children as they could. The sisters seemed like sweet girls, but the older one mentioned that they'd been talking with the female couple Kurt had noticed when they first arrived and really liked them. He hoped the girls would find a permanent home there. Two more older children, about eleven and twelve from the looks of them, were brother and sister though he'd never have known it from looking at them. Half siblings, maybe? Or even step siblings? The older of the two, the girl, was fiercely protective of her brother, placing herself in front of him and speaking for them both. He wondered what events in their past had made her so defensive.  
  
It was late afternoon and Kurt had somehow gotten separated from Blaine, who was across the yard playing patty cake with the pigtailed little girl that they'd seen drawing so much attention earlier. Kurt found himself talking to an outgoing boy who proudly announced that he'd just turned nine, and asked about his favorite football team. His enthusiasm dimmed when Kurt confessed that he didn't follow any sports, and when another boy his age ran by and pulled him into a game of tag, he quickly lost interest in talking to a boring adult who didn't even watch sports.  
  
Kurt watched him run off, then looked around for Blaine, finding him putting his jacket back on as the sun went down and the air cooled. He saw Kurt looking at him and his face asked a question as he unwound his bow tie. Yes, there would be questions after today. There would be so much to talk about. And Kurt wasn't sure that he had any answers.  
  
"Miss Megan Joy, it's time for you to go!" Quinn stood with a sixtyish woman who waved at Meg across the yard. She jumped off a swing and ran over, giving the woman a hug.  
  
"Are you ready for your ballet class, Miss Meg? I brought your bag so we can go straight there." She smoothed Meg's hair back from her face. "Did you meet anyone nice today?"  
  
Meg nodded and said something that Kurt couldn't hear, but he heard what Quinn said next.  
  
"Is there anyone you'd like to say goodbye to?"  
  
She turned around to scan the playground, spotted Kurt and waved to him. Blaine stood behind her and for just a moment he indulged his fantasy, that she was only saying goodbye for the moment. She was going with her other daddy for ice cream while he went back to their apartment to finish a work project. She'd give him a kiss and ask why he couldn't come with them, and he'd promise to meet them later for dinner. All those small moments in a family….he wanted them. He wanted to bother his co-workers with 101 pictures of this cute girl on his phone. He wanted to play Santa at Christmastime. He wanted to call home and ask his dad and Carole for advice the first time that he and Blaine found themselves at a loss in the parenting game. Dolls and skinned knees and packed lunches and Halloween costumes….he could see it all. Even the tears he knew would inevitably continue for months, years even, over her mother….he could handle that prospect if he knew that he'd be there to comfort her through it all.  
  
He realized he hadn't responded to her and made himself raise his hand in a wave, calling good-bye. She waved to a couple other adults on the playground, including Blaine, before taking the hand of the older woman and disappearing with her.  
  
"Everyone, if I could have your attention please!" Mercedes stood in the middle of the playground, hands raised. "We're going to start winding things up for today. Kids, you're going back to the room you started in this morning, with your caseworkers. If there are any adults you met here today that you'd particularly like to say good-bye to, now's your chance. After you've said good-bye, there are drinks and snacks waiting for you inside. Adults, you will be going with me to the same room you started in as well."  
  
Kurt caught Blaine's eye across the playground and they moved toward each other as the group around them ebbed and flowed. Some kids headed inside immediately, looking excited by the prospect of snacks. Others hung back, looking around and finding a specific couple.  
  
"Anyone in particular you want to say good-bye to?" he asked Blaine softly, though he thought he knew the answer.  
  
"I'm hoping he'll come to us," he answered, equally as soft. His golden eyes roamed the playground, looking as if he was watching all the interactions but Kurt could see how his gaze kept flicking back to the spot just over Kurt's right shoulder, letting him know where James stood.  
  
"Alright, kids, let's get inside," Mercedes called, and Blaine tried to mask his disappointment.  
  
"Just wait," he whispered. He knew from looking at his husband, when James passed behind him. When he saw the teenager in his peripheral vision, headed for the door of the community center without stopping, he finally called his name.  
  
James hesitated, looking for a moment as if he might keep walking before he turned. "Yeah?"  
  
"It was….nice to meet you today, James." Kurt just hoped he was saying the right thing. Did the standard phrase sound too contrived, too insincere? The boy's face gave no clue what he was thinking.  
  
"I hope we get a chance to talk to you again," Blaine added, and held his hand out.  
  
"Yeah." After only a short pause, James shook Blaine's hand, then Kurt's. "That'd be cool." He dropped Kurt's hand and stood for a moment. "Bye."  
  
"Bye, James." They watched him go inside, hands shoved in his pockets and slouched over just like the first glimpse they'd had of him.  
  
Kurt barely remembered those last few minutes of sitting on the hard chairs, listening to Mercedes talk about the next steps in their adoption journey. He knew she was giving important information, but damned if he could remember it an hour later when he found himself sitting across from Blaine at a coffee place a few blocks away.  
  
"I don't know how the social workers deal with this every day," he told him, stirring his coffee though it was long since mixed. "How do they look at these kids every day, knowing they can't help them all?"  
  
"By helping the ones they can, I guess." Blaine reached over, stopping his fidgeting. "Can we talk about this? I know you weren't sure about going today, but now that you've met the kids, what do you think?"  
  
"I think….that every kid we met today deserves a home. And I think we would be amazing dads. I'm just not sure if I'm ready to be a dad to any of the kids we met today." Blaine released his hand and sat back, lips tight and looked out the window though there was nothing to see. "I'm sorry, I know you were hoping I'd meet the kids today and instantly fall in love with one of them, want to take them home with us and bam, instant family. But it's not that quick or easy. And I'm not talking about the paperwork and court dates and all the other logistics."  
  
"So what are we talking about here?" he demanded. "What's the issue?"  
  
"The issue is….I don't develop feelings for someone that quickly or easily. I mean, we're talking about choosing a child that we can take home to be our child, someone we can love….and I'm not even sure I like any of the kids we met today. I'm kind of bitchy like that. You should know that, if anyone does."  
  
"You liked Meg, didn't you? You relate to her."  
  
"I did. I know what she's going through. I even-" He questioned the wisdom of confessing this, but said it anyway. "For a second I was daydreaming about her being our daughter."  
  
"See! You do want to take a kid home!" Blaine crowed, triumphant.  
  
"It was a daydream, okay? There's a big difference between fantasizing about something and then being faced with the reality of parenting every day for the rest of our lives."  
  
"But there's a part of you that wants to be a parent," Blaine said softly, leaning forward. "I know there is. You're the one who opened the discussion about starting a family."  
  
"I know I did. But we got hit with a lot of reality today. It's a lot to take in." He stopped to sip his coffee, and eyed his husband. "You don't seem shell-shocked at all. How are you not freaked out?"  
  
"I'm not sure, to be honest. I think for me, meeting the kids in person helped me get over my nerves about being a dad. Because once a kid's in front of me, they're just a kid, someone who wants me to listen to them or play with them. They're no longer this big, scary lifetime commitment with the 'parenting' label on it."  
  
Kurt nodded, accepting that explanation, then broached the topic that he knew he couldn't avoid.  
  
"You really liked talking to James, didn't you? You related to him."  
  
"I feel for him. I know what it's like to be rejected by my parents. You've never experienced that. And you know that the older the kids get, the harder they are to place, especially the boys."  
  
"I know, but….I just think a younger kid would be easier. We'd have more time with them, more time to—I don't know, is influence the wrong word? I just feel like, if we start with a baby or a little kid, we'll feel more like their parents."  
  
"You don't think a teenager needs good parents?" Blaine snapped. "I know damn well I needed them, and I didn't get them!"  
  
"So….we adopt James because he's the one we feel sorriest for? Is that the best reason to adopt a child, Blaine?" Kurt was starting to develop a headache, and all this talking in circles was getting them nowhere.  
  
Blaine shook his head, as if Kurt just wasn't getting it. "I'm not thinking of it like that. I'm thinking about the kid that needs us the most."  
  
Kurt remembered Meg's hunched back as she cried over her mother. "Even if you look at it that way, that's still a matter of interpretation."  
  
Blaine leaned back, spreading his hands. "What are our options, here? We can call Mercedes tomorrow and tell her that we've changed our minds, that we're not ready to adopt right now."  
  
"I didn't say that I'm pulling the plug on this," he said wearily.  
  
"So then we're back to the same question as five minutes ago….we only have a room for one kid. Who do you want to apply for?"  
  
Kurt sighed. It had been a draining day and he just didn't feel up to making such an important decision right this moment.  
  
"This isn't something we're going to decide right now," he pointed out. "Can we sleep on it and then call the agency tomorrow morning?"  
  
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Blaine pushed his coffee cup aside. "I'm going to the bathroom."  
  
Kurt let him go. He'd used the bathroom excuse to gather himself earlier, he wouldn't stop Blaine if he wanted to do the same. He sat quietly, trying to calm the storm cloud in his head.  
  
A phone rang across the room, reminding him that he hadn't checked his since leaving the event. Pulling it out, he read a text from his dad.  
  
Update us asap.  
  
He hit Speed Dial Two, listening to the familiar rings before his stepmom's voice answered.  
  
"Hi, Carole."  
  
"Kurt! We've been waiting to hear from you, how'd it go today?"  
  
"I'm as exhausted now as I would be at the end of Black Friday, but I don't have new clothes to show for it," he told her. "Is my dad there?"  
  
"He's fallen asleep in his recliner watching the game. Do you want me to wake him for you? I know he wants to talk to you about today."  
  
"No, don't wake him up. It can wait. Tell him that I might crash myself once we get home, so I may not call him back till tomorrow."  
  
"Honey, it's only 7:00 pm in New York. Was it that bad today?" Her concern radiated through the phone, and Kurt found himself summarizing the day's events for her.  
  
"I don't want to say it was bad," he said once he'd given her the condensed version. "It was challenging and overwhelming and Blaine and I are disagreeing on which kid we'd like to possibly foster or try to adopt. And I'm so torn between wanting to take all of them home, and wanting to forget the whole idea. Maybe it would easier to hire a surrogate after all, I'm not sure I can handle adopting an older kid. I'm just….I'm not sure I can love them." He stopped, surprising himself that he'd said it out loud.  
  
There was a long pause before she answered, "I have a couple responses to that. First of all, if you're looking for the easy way out, then you should forget the whole thing." Nurturing Mom was gone, replaced by No-Nonsense Mom. "You and Blaine should forget being dads at all, by any method. Because parenting isn't easy, no matter how you come to it. Older kids, babies, biological kids or adopted, it's never easy."  
  
"Carole, I didn't mean-"  
  
"I know you didn't. I know you're just venting after an emotional day," with a little more kindness now. "But I feel like someone needs to say this to you. Being a parent can be the most worthwhile thing you ever do in your life. It can also be the hardest. Take it from someone who knows. If you're thinking of backing out already, then I think you should examine your commitment to this. Children don't come with a sales receipt and a return policy printed at the bottom."  
  
"I know, I know…." He heaved a sigh, seeing Blaine emerge from the bathroom at the back of the coffee shop. "What was the second thing? You may as well hit me with all of it now."  
  
"The second thing is a question."  
  
"Okay." He braced himself as Blaine slid back into his seat across the booth, looking calmer.  
  
"Kurt…do you believe that I love you?"  
  
"What?" His shocked tone made Blaine raise his eyebrows in a question.  
  
"Do you know, deep in your bones, that I love you?" she repeated, and he found his voice.  
  
"Carole, of course I know that, I've never doubted that," he babbled. "You're my mom, how could I doubt that?"  
  
"And how old were you when we met?"  
  
Oh.  
  
He couldn't answer for a moment. He could only guess at the look on his face that caused Blaine to mouth, 'what is it?' and reach across to take his hand.  
  
"I was sixteen," he answered finally.  
  
"So I didn't know you for the first sixteen years of your life, and you already had all this history, all this teen angst and some heavy issues you were dealing with, long before I met you. And I won't lie to you, Kurt, I didn't love you like my own son from the very first day." At mention of her son, Kurt had to press his lips together to suppress the emotion that tightened his chest. "It took time, but now….I couldn't love you more if I had given birth to you." From the sound of her voice, he wasn't the only one fighting tears.  
  
"I know. And I love you too." His voice cracked and he sniffed, thought of reaching for his handkerchief before remembering that he'd given it to Meg. Oh god…Meg. And James. And every other child he'd met today. He could see all their faces so clearly now.  
  
"Now, listen. I'm not trying to tell you what decision to make," Carole continued. "That's for you and Blaine to decide. I'm only pointing out, from my own experience, it's very possible to love a child that you don't meet till later in their life."  
  
Kurt nodded, squeezing Blaine's hand and trying to summon a smile for him because he looked so worried. Kurt took a very deliberate breath, trying to compose himself. His voice was almost steady when he spoke.  
  
"Got it. Thanks, Carole. I….well, I called to talk to my dad because he can usually help me see things more clearly. But maybe he wasn't the parent whose perspective I needed tonight. Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome, honey. Now you and Blaine go talk about it, and call back later to talk to your dad, okay? He's still going to want to hear about it from you."  
  
"I will. Love you." It occurred to him that he didn't say those words to Carole very often, and resolved to say them more from now on.  
  
"Love you too, Kurt. Goodnight."  
  
He set his phone down, looking at it for a long moment before he finally met his husband's anxious gaze.  
  
"Are you alright?" Blaine asked softly.  
  
Kurt closed his eyes for a moment, trying to center himself before he answered.  
  
"I think so. Carole just pointed out some truths to me, that's all."  
  
"And?" He was trying so hard not to sound too hopeful, much like several of the kids they'd met today.  
  
"And I think we'll be calling the agency tomorrow to talk to Sam and Quinn about both kids. I'm willing to consider either of them, but I think we need more information," Kurt answered calmly. He felt calm, he realized. Finally. Maybe all the rollercoaster emotions of today had finally played out, and he'd survived the ride.  
  
"Agreed," Blaine smiled. "We shouldn't rush into anything, I know that. I took a few minutes to think about it, and I know we need to take our time, make the right choice."  
  
They sat there, holding hands across the table and smiling at each other.  
  
"So…." He pulled his hands free and picked up his phone, pocketing it. "Shall we go home and get some dinner, then sleep on it?"  
  
"Yeah." There was that smile again, the one that would make him do unwise things, make him willing to tackle any challenge. "Let's go home."  


**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the Sondheim song "Children Will Listen." The full line is, "Careful the wish you make, wishes are children."


End file.
